Waves
by Guardian2Be
Summary: "I love your hair. So many colors, all in the shade of brown. Cinnamon to coffee." "I thought coffee was black?" He gave her a half smile. "Not if you put a couple sugar cubes in it, it's not." Annie/Finnick
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does. I'm just obsessed with the series and characters.**

**Hey people! For those of you who don't know me, I'm Guardian2Be! (Duh, you can read my name right up there…) I haven't written any HG stuff, but I'm willing to try and go for it. So, here we go!**

WAVES

Prologue

Getting up is hard; that's the simple truth. But everyday I do it. I'm not sure how, but I manage to drag myself out of bed, get dressed, and head down to the docks to help my family fish before school starts. After school, I would help my family on our boat, pull in today's haul, head home, do my homework, and go to bed. In the morning it begins again. But that's on most days. All except for one day of every year. The reaping. The reaping is on June seventh. Today is that day.

The day starts like any other. Get out of bed, get dressed, brush my hair and teeth, slip on some sneakers that are _really_ worn out, and go out the door, heading for District Four's ocean. For some reason, I've never liked the heat. I find it distasteful, because my hair—whose natural curls bounce all around my head like mad, even when I'm walking—gets all frizzy and hard to contain. But I love the water. I can't get enough. I swim the most out of all of my friends, and can beat them in a race any day. But most times we just go in there for fun. Callista, Abbey, Pearl, River, Juniper, and me; we go in there, splash around for a bit, and get out. That's all. Normally, we'd all be on separate boats, helping our parents with their work that we will one day take over.

Callista calls all of us lucky, because we get to be in the reaping for a while longer, while she's eighteen and her final chance to compete in the Hunger Games is this reaping. The Seventieth Annual Hunger Games. She's told us many times over that she'll volunteer this year; and she will. I know she will. She's been training her _whole life _to be a tribute, whereas Abbey, Pearl, and I don't train at all. Juniper and River train some, but they just started. You have to fifteen to eighteen to train for the Hunger Games. The Hunger Games. Where should I begin?

I guess I'll start with the Rebellion. Seventy years ago, District Thirteen rebelled against the Capitol, our harsh totalitarian government. See, the Capitol has this twisted point of view, where the Districts that are closer (for example One, Two, and Four, my District) serve more valuable items than the ones farther away. So that's why District Thirteen, and a lot of other Districts, Four included, fought against the Capitol. The Capitol fought back and then some, and one by one, each District was defeated. Since Thirteen was the leader in the Rebellion, the Capitol destroyed the district and the people in it. Thirteen was blown off the map.

So, in order to keep the other Districts from inciting another Rebellion, they created the Hunger Games, which was forcing a boy and a girl from each District between the ages of twelve and eighteen to compete in the Hunger Games, a fight to the death on live television. Only one can survive. Out of all the Seventy years, District Four has had twenty Victors. Eleven are still alive today.

The Reaping is the choosing of the names, the names go in by lottery. If someone volunteers, which someone almost _always_ does, then they will go in instead of the name initially chosen. In a week's time, the two tributes will ride in a train to the Capitol, which is one day and night by train, go through a complete make over, ride in Chariots throughout the Capitol's City Circle (the Town Square), do an interview with Ceaser Flickerman, the host of the Games, and then be thrown in an outdoor arena to fight to the death.

Spoiler Alert: We All Die.

Oh, right. My name's Annie Cresta. I am fourteen years old, have no interest in the Games, and am determined to go through the Reaping without getting Reaped. Because here, getting picked is your worst nightmare.


	2. Chapter One: Unprepared

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Not even Finnick :(.**

**Hey! Alright, so I've got nearly an hour and thirty-five minutes to type the first chapter and hopefully the second, if I go fast enough. :D**

Chapter One: Unprepared

The docks are one of my favorite places in District Four. The ocean is just a few feet away, as well as the boats, the sunsets are magnificent from the main dock. And it's a great place to just sit and talk. The beach is great for that too, but if it's windy…Well, you'd much rather be on the dock. I sit there now, waiting for my friends to come. Callista, River, Pearl, Juniper and I have been the best of friends since I was ten. I'm the youngest of the five of us. Juniper is a couple months older, then Pearl, who is turning fifteen in a week. River comes next, who is sixteen, and doesn't turn seventeen for a good six months. Abbey is seventeen. Callista is eighteen, and she can't wait for two o'clock to come. I know that because I can hear her, even though she hasn't even stepped foot on the beach, never mind the docks. Callista just talks really loud. I am definitely the quiet one. I don't find the need of talking so long or loud.

"Annie!" Pearl calls, jogging over the beach and to the docks. "Annie, how long have you been here?" Abbey asks from behind Pearl. I get up from my sitting position, taking my toes out of the salt water of the ocean, and slipping them into the flip flops I had brought along. "About an hour, I think." I admit. "Oh, Anns, I don't understand your fascination with the docks. It always smells like rotting fish and there aren't any good views of the ocean here." River adds, smiling ruefully at me. I cross my arms over my chest, and begin walking over to them. "There are too! Have you ever seen a sunset from the docks? It's beautiful." Callista rolls her eyes. "Whatever, Annie. C'mon, I want to go swimming before the Reaping!" She takes off for the beach, blonde hair flying out behind her. She takes off her shirt and shorts as she does, revealing her bathing suit as she wades into the deep blue of the ocean.

"Did you get a new bathing suit?" I ask as I follow Pearl, Juniper, and Abbey onto the beach. Juniper was already in the water with Callista. "Yep! It took _forever _for my dad to get enough money to buy something for my birthday. In the end, he had just enough to get this!" She gestures to her red-stripped bikini. "Cute, right?" I nod, taking off my clothes to reveal my own bathing suit. I've had this one for about three months now. It was turquoise, and a two-piece, just not as revealing as Callista's. I come into the ocean, the gentle waves washing over me, soothing my body, but still partially freezing it. The ocean water was cold, no doubt about it.

As I go deeper into the water, little sprouts of seaweed tickle my toes, as little fish attack my ankles. Ignoring the distractions, I kick up onto my stomach, swimming my way over to my friends, who were pretty far out. I was there in about thirty seconds. "How do you _do_ that?" Juniper asks, wide-eyed. "Do what?" I ask. I couldn't touch here; no one could, except for Callista, whose head barely makes it above water. So, I focus on treading to keep myself afloat. "Swim that fast! You're faster than Callie!" Callista rolls her eyes, the use of her nickname annoying her. She says we were to only call her Callista. Callie seems babyish, according to her. "It's natural for her, Junie." Callista says, using Juniper's most hated nick name. Juniper shoots her a glare, and Callie just laughs. We all talk for a while, until it's clear we're going to be late for the Reaping if we spend any more time in the water. Besides, Callista says, she wants to look good when she volunteers. Juniper, Abbey, Pearl, River and I just roll our eyes at her. Though inside, we were all trembling with the fear that our friend would leave us, most likely forever.

I don't think she'll do it. Callista's usually just full of hot air, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.

We don't bother to pull our clothes on. In District Four, bathing suits do count as clothes, but if you wear them at school you get detention. We call goodbye as we run to our separate lives, hair dripping, and eyes bright, but they were going to dull soon. We all knew it. The Reaping and the Hunger Games just has that affect on people.

Inside our small house, my brother Alex was sitting on the couch, flipping through channels. Most of what was on was the Capitol news, mostly about the upcoming Reaping and Hunger Games, betting on which District would take the crown. The rest was just scenes from past Games. Unlike me, my brother loves the Games. I don't know what he sees in them, but he always tells me what to do, and what not to do if I ever get Reaped. For example, no crying, no frowning, smile for the cameras, find water, food, make allies. Survive. His most important rule. Survive, live. My brother never won the Games, got passed the Reaping. He was upset about that, because he could never volunteer for the male tribute if I were chosen. My family and a couple of his friends (and mine of course) celebrated his nineteenth birthday with extra festivity. Seeing me, he laughed. "Swimming with them again, huh?" I crack a smile and nod. To Alex, my friends never seem to have names. He refers to them as… Exactly that: 'Them.' But he _does_ call Callista by her name. I think they're going to end up together one day. If he wasn't my brother, I would force him to ask her out. But I can't, because that would be awkward.

I turn to head up the stairs, when he calls out to me. "Annie?" I turn back. "Yeah?" "Make sure you look pretty, okay?" His voice is exasperated. Probably just tired from working all week. He's worked every day this week, except for today. It's Friday, the Reaping. No need to work. In fact, it's against the law. "Okay." I respond, and head up the stairs and into my room, going into my private bathroom as soon as my door was shut. I jump into the shower, the warm water a refreshing feeling of getting the salt of the ocean off of me and out of my hair. I even wash my hair with the little shampoo and conditioner I have. I try to save washing my hair for special occasions, like birthdays, or, of course, the Reaping. Getting out of the shower, I wrap a towel around me and my hair, and go out into my room. Going to my closet, I pull out a sparkly green dress that looks like the rays of the sun on the water whenever it moves. It's strapless, which adds to the beauty of the creation.

Slipping it on carefully, I easily zip up the back, taking care to handle it gently; it was my mother's after all.

My mom died about a year ago in a boating accident. It wasn't her fault, she didn't know there was a problem with a wiring in the engine; that the thing would blow up as soon as she stepped onto the dock. But it did, and it killed my mom. There's a piece of me that will always believe that it wasn't a problem with the wiring, that it was the Capitol. But it can't be proven, and even if it could, there wouldn't be a trial or anything. That's the way it is. Things are unfair. The Capitol rules all. The end.

I take out my favorite pair of dress shoes, golden flats with fake clear jewels at the toe. The best part was when the sunlight would flash on the jewels, they would shine the most brilliant white for just a fraction of a second. Going back into my bathroom, I brush out my hair, but seeing as it was still wet, I couldn't leave it down. I pull it back into a complicated up-do that my mother taught me long ago. It wasn't _that_ complicated, not when you've tied knots much trickier. I take out the only tube of lip gloss that I'll probably _ever_ own. Spreading a thin sheet on my lower lip, I rub my lips together to give them both a little shine. I back up to look at my reflection.

Green-blue eyes, more of a dark green today, was the first thing I noticed. Then the hair, the brown tresses artfully positioned so that with every move, the main style didn't fall out. The lips were next, full, but not overly so, a sparkle to add to the effect.

Over all, I was pretty. No, not pretty. More… Dressed up. Obviously looking like I was rich, even though I was far from it. My face looked unnaturally tan, even though it was completely natural, just like the rest of District Four.

Coming out of my bathroom, I turn off the light, and grab my token, a bracelet Mom had given me when I was four, slipped it on my wrist, and headed out the door and down the stairs, just as Alex was yelling at me to hurry up, that we'd be late if I take any longer.

"I'm here." I say, landing at the bottom of the steps. "Annie…" His tone of voice was weird as he examined me. My father's eyes were wide. "What?" I ask, scared I'd forgotten something important. "You look… Nice." He says finally, and my dad nods. "Oh." I know I'm blushing, but I manage to pull it in so it looks like make up. "Thanks."

Alex sighs. "Ready to go?" He asks. I nod. "Ready."

I would only know later how unprepared I actually was.

**Done! With forty minutes to spare! I have to go though, so expect the second chapter some time tomorrow. I'll talk to you all later.**

**Thoughts?**

**All the best,**

**Guardian2Be**


	3. Chapter 2: The Reaping Kinda

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

**Guess who gets a virtual Finnick (that's right, no cookies. You get Finnicks instead. Consider yourselves lucky)! That's right: Save-The-Snorkacks! I'm going to give out virtual Finnicks for every update that I do. Save-The-Snorkacks got the first virtual Finnick because she was my fist review! Yay! Okay so I'm done talking now. :D**

Chapter Two: The Reaping

As all three of us walked together, we were joined by my friends and their families as well. This was standard procedure for us. Callista and River were already deep in a conversation, so I talked to Juniper, Abbey, and Pearl, who were raving about District Four's latest Victor, Finnick Odair. He was tan, had a swimmer's body, bronze hair, and sea green eyes. He was also very cocky, or so I learned. At least I knew he was vain; he checked his hair in a hand-held mirror at least once every five minutes. "I mean, he's _so_ hot," Pearl was saying. "I would give anything to be his girlfriend." Abbey says. "Agreed." Juniper said. "Honestly, I don't know why you guys like him so much." I laugh. Abbey acted offended and said in an overly dramatic voice. "Annie, really! We don't like him. You should know better!" "Oh?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow at them. "We _love_ him! He's so…" Juniper trailed off. "Vain?" I ask, finishing for her. "No! He is _not_ vain! He just wants to look good for the cameras!" Pearl jumps to Finnick's defense, even though he doesn't even know we're having this conversation, or probably that we exist at all. "Yep, sure guys. Whatever you say." I smirk, and walk over to the registration line, where you have to sign your name under your age group and gender. Once I was done signing in, I turned to my family, hugged them all, and they wished me good luck, and left to go into the little roped off areas around the perimeter of the Square. The girls got done signing and came over to me, hugging me one at a time, and we wished us all good luck, and left to go to our separate age groups, Juniper and I together in the area marked 'Fourteen'. Callista, Pearl, Abbey, and River were on their own.

The two long bongs that rang throughout the Square—probably the whole District—signaled that it was two o' clock. Our escort, Fillipa Gems (stupid name, but she's from the Capitol, what did you expect), jumped up to the podium, crystal—I'm not even joking, crystal—eyes gleaming. She welcomes us to another Hunger Games, and lets the mayor come up and talk about how the Hunger Games were created, and how we are never to rebel again. I just zoned out during the whole thing, and tuned back in when Fillipa came back up. She rattled on and on about how District Four was certain to win this year, that she can feel it. And I hope Fillipa's feeling is right, because if Callista really does volunteer… I cast the thought out of my mind as Fillipa dips her hand into the girls' ball, where the names are held. I beg her not to pull out my name. I beg and beg, silently of course. I don't even notice when she calls out a name. She has to say it again, when I'm getting gently nudged forward by Juniper, who already has tears in her eyes. I move forward stiffly, before forcing myself to follow Alex's lessons. One: Relax and smile. Act like your happier than ever to compete. I do so now, relaxing (acting of course) and striding to the stage confidently. I bring up one of my happiest moments; a day when Alex was maybe seven and I was three. Our father had taken us to the bakery to celebrate Alex's first day of grade school. Those cookies are the best thing I've ever tasted. I envision them now, sugar cookies. That is enough to add a little smile on my face just as I turn to face the audience. My eyes automatically sort through family after family, until I locate Alex. He looks scared, upset maybe. He didn't want this to happen, then he wouldn't be able to volunteer for—Volunteer. Callista. She's supposed to volunteer for me, right? I look for her in the eighteen-year-old section. I find her, just to see her face closed off, not moving, mouth not yelling anything to protest. I knew it. I knew she wouldn't do it. I was stupid to think that she'd volunteer. Friendship only goes so far for the Hunger Games.

Fillipa turns to me, smiling her head off. "Annie Cresta! How old are you, darling?" I grin back at her. "Fourteen." I answer confidently. God, I am _way_ too good at this acting thing. Of course, Alex has trained me since I could walk, so I should be. And suddenly, I'm terrified. The shock worn off, I can realize what just happened. I got reaped. I am going to the Capitol. I am competing in the Seventieth Hunger Games. Oh my God.

I am dead.

**That was short, I know. But I seriously have to go to bed now—the first day of school's tomorrow. Luckily, it's only a half day, so I'll be back and ready to type the next one up for you guys to read. :D Hope you enjoyed, and review? Maybe?**

**All the best,**

**Guardian2Be**


	4. AN Don't skip: Important Info!

**Author's Note :(**

**I know I know… I hate these things too, but this is important. Good news: Expect the (late… I'm so sorry!) next chapter in about an hour to an hour and a half… Other good news (really, there is no bad news; I just like to scare you guys!): I wanted to explain the 'Virtual Finnicks' deal. Alright, so here's what's going to happen: I'm going to hand them out to the first reviewer of each chapter, and the one that had the most…. I don't know. Something funny, creative, inspiring; it's really like the best comment award. ^.^ So I will be giving out two (or three. Three is the maximum) Virtual Finnicks out every update! (Except for the next one, I don't have too many comments right now) :) **

**KEEP TRACK OF HOW MANY FINNICKS YOU GET! After "Waves" comes to a close, I will ask you all how many Virtual Finnicks you guys got. NO LYING! I could easily scroll back through chapters and check how many you actually got; I'm trying to save myself time… Whoever gets the most Virtual Finnicks, can have me write a story about themselves in the Hunger Games, or a different character's Hunger Games. (Johanna, Finnick, etc.). I won't do Annie again, sorry. If you happen to win, send me a plot through PM, or if you don't have a FF account, just tell me through a review of the last chapter of "Waves". I will announce who wins after the final chapter of "Waves" has been published :). I don't know how many chapters there will be though, I just hope to get through Annie's Games without a glitch, or another A/N.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**All the best,**

**Guardian2Be**


	5. Chapter 3: Let The Games Begin

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

**Alright, so I'm so very sorry about not updating when I said I would—it was so crazy these last couple days. So now I'm back! Yay!**

Chapter Three: Let The Games Begin 

I was about to get lost in my little world of hysteria, when Alex caught my eye. He was mouthing something, but I couldn't tell what. Something flashed in his eyes though, so I thought he meant for me to remember…Remember what? Running through the lessons again, I just barely remembered one of his earliest lessons. I was only five, so I didn't really know what the Hunger Games were; I didn't understand.

"_Remember, Annie. If you're about to freak, try to act like it's out of excitement you got Reaped." "Why would I be scared? Getting Reaped is good, right? I saw some older boys get excited about being up there." Alex shook his head sadly, and put a hand on my shoulder. I didn't understand. Why was the Reaping a bad thing? Don't people like to be on T.V., if only for a little bit? "Anns, here's the thing. You don't want to get picked until you're older, that way you'll at least have a chance." "When will I be older?" "Believe me, you'll know. People grow up fast here, Annie-Bear. Just remember, act excited, okay?" "Okay!" Then I run off to go to the beach, leaving Alex behind. _

So, I did it. I plastered a winning grin on my face, smiling triumphantly into the faces of my friends, finding each of them in the crowd. All we crying, except for Callista, whose face was still closed off, no emotion showing, but she did look back up as Fillipa moved to the boys' ball. Her hand fished around for a second, before pulling out a single sheet of paper. Unfolding it rather slowly, she read out the name. "Nearland Jackey?" I watched as he stepped up from the eighteen year olds, coming up onto the stage. And all at once, I know who he is. "Nearland, how old are you?" Fillipa asks, even though it's quite obvious he came from the front of the eighteen year olds, the group closest to the stage. "Eighteen." He answered gruffly. I remember him. He was—or, is—Alex's beset friend. Nearland came to Alex's nineteenth birthday party, and though we've rarely spoken, we know each other, and we've seen each other. Now one of us will die in a week; or most likely both. You never know what the Arena will hold.

I barely caught Fillipa's, "Shake hands and then it's off to the Justice Building!" Before we shook hands (all I really got off of Nearland was a steely, cold hard grip) and went inside. Two Peacekeepers flanked me, and two on Nearland, directing us both to separate rooms, mine a little farther down. They all but shoved me in there, and so I sat on a leather white couch, my feet tapping nervously against the hard floor, fingers scratching at the leather and beaded décor embroidered on the couch. The first person to visit was Abbey and Pearl, who raced in, and hugged me tightly, whispering words of encouragement. "It's all going to be alright, Annie, you'll see…" "Annie, no need to worry. You'll fly through these Games like nothing! I know you can-." "I know you can do it, Annie. You just focus on getting-." "In and out, Annie. Breathe." "Guys, relax." I pull away gently, trying hard not to show any sign of weakness, even though I was terrified. "You know I'll do it. Even if I don't, well…" Well what? What do you say to finish that sentence? "At least you'll go out fighting?" Abbey suggests. "Of course." I answer, and then cock an eyebrow at them. "And I heard that Finnick Odair is going to be a mentor this year." I say, and they both laugh, but Pearl's crying, and Abbey's holding back tears desperately. Seeing them like that makes me want to break down too, but I can't. I have to show the Capitol that I will not be weak, I will _never_ be weak; Because I am me, and I am strong. I flip over my token, my old bracelet, and find words engraved there. I've run my fingers over them many times, but they haven't touched me like this before.

_You are you. And you are strong. Remember Annie. I love you. They can't take it._

The words go all the way around the bracelet, calming me. My mother's words, all my own. I hug Abbey and Pearl tightly, before the Peacekeepers take them away. I fight back tears, sitting down on the couch and rubbing the "_I love you_" engraved on it, as if those words will give me strength. The next person to visit is Juniper. She runs up to me, already crying, and is hugging me like mad, just crying her eyes out. "C'mon, Jay, don't be like that." I whisper, holding her back at arm's length. "It'll all be okay." I say. Juniper snaps at me automatically. "Okay? How can you say that Annie? You know very well that you are going to _die_ in the Arena! Everyone will have to watch you die; _I'll_ have to watch you die! I don't want to… I mean, you can't…" "Jay, breathe, okay? It'll be alright, you know it will. Just promise me something?" I ask. She sniffs, and then says: "Anything." I tell her what I want.

My dad and Alex come in next. Dad gets to me first, whispering calming things in my ear, even though I'm not crying, I'm not really upset. I'm more angry. Angry that this whole thing is even going on. That kids have to die for the government's sick entertainment, so by the time Alex comes up, I say, "Don't you dare cry, Alex." He laughs, though it's half-hearted. "I won't." Then he's serious. "Look Annie, I don't want you holding back in that Arena, okay? Even if Nearland… Even if Nearland got Reaped. You understand? You will become a Career, as strong as any other tribute from One or Two. You will stay strong, survive. You remember the lessons, right?" "Of course I do. I'm not stupid. Didn't you see me following them up there?… Alex, if I die, I'm not saying that I will, but if I do, can you _please_ take care of everyone? Like, every one of my friends? At least, to your ability? I just don't want…" "Annie, you listen to me. Do not worry about anything at home. I want your thoughts set straight ahead. But for now…" He hugs me tightly, and whispers in my ear, "I love you, Annie-Bear." "I love you too." I say, tears flooding my eyes. I manage to blink them back just as Alex pulls away. Then before I know it, they're gone, and I'm being escorted out of the room, and am standing behind the closed door of the train station. Nearland joins me soon after, and Fillipa tells us to smile pretty, and the words run through my head once more.

_You are you. And you are strong. Remember Annie. I love you. They can't take it._

As the flashing camera lights blind me, another thought goes through my head:

Let the Seventieth Annual Hunger Games begin.

**All the best,**

**Guardian2Be**


	6. Chapter 4: We Call It A Game

**Disclaimer: Nope.**

**Late I know; But I wanted to give you guys enough time to review and things :).**

**Okay, you guys have got to quit picking on my girl Callista. She becomes **_**very**_** important after Annie wins. No more picking on her. Sorry I'm being strict, but there is a hint of sarcasm in there :D. Alright, I won't keep you waiting anymore. This chapter we get a visit from a hot District Four Victor!**

**Virtual Finnicks Go To:**

**97**

**Death..**

Chapter Four: We Call it a Game

Stepping out into the early summer air, with a slight breeze running through the train station; it seemed like a beautiful day.

*****A KEY WORD*****

_**seemed**_

Camera lights flashed, microphones were shoved in our faces, begging for our voices to fly across the country. No doubt this was live television, it is every year. One Peacekeeper who'd followed us out as a protection detail (in case one reporter came too close) hurried us along. Fillipa recoiled at his touch, saying, "Really, it's not like we're _dead_. You can't man-handle me. All they want is a couple pictures. Let them do what they wish." _It's not like we're _dead. Not yet, Fillipa, dear. Not yet. Finally, we reached the train, and as we stepped aboard, I caught a slight glimpse of my friends, held back by barriers. They were crying. Callista wasn't there. Once on the train, the doors closed, the train lurched, and Fillipa showed us to our rooms. As Nearland and I walked behind her, she was clucking, saying how the rooms could be a bit better, but the new model the designers had suggested was denied. Before I could ask what that meant, Fillipa opened a door, and all but shoved me in there. "Annie, this is your room. Dinner is in an hour; Don't be late." The door closed. And the tears ran free. Collapsing on the bed, I thought about everyone I've ever come in contact with. Alex, Dad, Mom, Juniper, Abbey, Pearl, Nearland, Callista…. _Callista_. She said she was going to volunteer, that she was _made_ for the Games. That she is. This was her last year. So why am I here? I should be back in my district, supporting my friends, telling them that Callista would return in no time. But secretly, I would be screaming at Callista from the inside. Yelling at her that she left us. She left us. She. Left. Us. _I _left _them_. Sitting straight up in bed, I chastised myself. What was I thinking? Why the _hell_ should I be crying? I'm a Career, right? I should be happy, overjoyed maybe. Anything but crying and upset. If I'm supposed to be happy…

Why am I still crying?

I sat there for possibly forty minutes; just thinking. Then I realize I have twenty minutes to get ready. Popping up from the bed, I open what I think is the bathroom door. It is. And boy, is it huge. But I have no time to stand around and gape. Moving quickly to mirror, I examine my face. A bit red, but I could easily fix that. I notice that a drawer under the sink is slightly open. I pull it open the rest of the way, and it glides out smoothly. Inside there is some makeup. At least, I_ think_ it's makeup. The only thing I really recognize is a cherry lip gloss and something called foundation my mom had once upon a time. I'd seen her apply it once, and I usually have a very good memory, so I wash off the makeup I had on for the Reaping, making for everything is off. The redness is now blotchy. I pull out the foundation, and using my finger, I apply it gently, making my skin even. It was strange that it was my exact skin tone, but when I look at the container, it's a pasty white. Just another miracle of the Capitol, I suppose. I look back up at my reflection. My eyes, surprisingly, look white. Really white; making the green pop out. The redness is now gone, replaced by a bronze tone. I leave the other makeup in the drawer, and figure that's enough for now. I really don't _need_ makeup. Stepping back into the room, I go over to a smaller door. It's a closet, filled with amazing fashions I've seen Victors or other important people wearing on television. I pull out a one-shoulder green shirt, with a silver design on the front. Laying it down on the bed carefully, I reach for a pair of form-fitting slacks. I get changed, admiring the airy quality of the shirt. It's loose, but in a flattering way. On the bottom of the closet lays an array of shoes; everything from flats to high-heels, in every shape and size. I pull out a pair of flats that look about my size. They feel like walking on a cloud. I nearly ran in them, this room definitely was big enough to, but these were not running shoes. I settle for walking a couple steps. They were perfect.

I go back into the bathroom, grabbing a brush that was in the same drawer as the makeup. Pulling them through my curls, they actually look tame. Putting the brush back, I check the clock that is up against the wall. I got ready in fifteen minutes. Going back into the room rather slowly, I sit down on the bed and take a deep breath. I'm a Career now. I have to be happy. Happy. I nearly laugh, it was that ridiculous. I allow myself to imagine what it was like back home. Were my friends crying? Alex? Callista? The next thing I know, Fillipa's knocking on my door, telling me it was time for dinner. I take another deep breath, before following another one of Alex's lessons. Smile. Don't ever frown. Make yourself look confident. Act mysterious when asked about your talents. Don't tell them you don't train, don't tell them that you do, either. I adorn a tiny smile on my face, opening the door, and having Fillipa lead me out of the bedroom car and into the dining car. It was a bit smaller than the one we just left, but not by much. There was a large dining table, with plates and food set out, ready to eat. I nearly fall over, but it's not because I saw Finnick Odair, but because of the food. This was easily enough to fill every stomach of every child in District Four. Chicken, fish, soups, muffins, anything you could think of, even those I don't have a name for.

Fillipa seats herself next to Mags, the old mentor that won a long time ago, before I was born. "Sit down please, Annie." Mags says. I do so, sitting down next to Fillipa. There was one chair between me and Finnick Odair. Then Nearland enters, and staying true to his solemn form, takes the seat between Finnick and me without a word. Capitol attendants come in, carrying plates of food. My only thought: There's _more_? One of them, a girl who looks about Callista's age, sets down a bowl with pink soup and some kind of brown nuts that look like grain sprinkled over it.

We all begin to eat, and I expect one of them to say what the next dish is, but they don't speak. I notice, being the observer I am, that they swallow strangely, like they don't have…. Don't have a tongue. Alex told me about these servants—Avoxes, he called them—and that they did something against the Capitol. The Capitol caught them and tortured them, doing something to their tongues so they could never speak again. And then made them serve on the future tributes of the Hunger Games. Studying the girl that served me out of the corner of my eye, I see that she isn't like Callista's age at all. She looks _my_ age. Fourteen. Maybe fifteen. What could she have done to deserve this fate? I imagine me being in her position, forced to serve people who're going to die, most likely. Not able to speak, protest against this cruel thing we call a festivity. We call it a Game.

So when Finnick says, in his infamous purr, "So, how old are you two again?" Nearland answers first, in the same manner he spoke it at the Reaping. Finnick nods in acknowledgement. And when he turns to me, I don't think. I just act. Smirking, I say, "Fourteen." That was Finnick's age when he won the Games. He responds with a half-smile. "Talents?" He asks. Nearland goes, again, first. "Knives." He answers. Finnick just turns to me. "What about you, Annie?" Here we go. Attempting to hold back fake laughter I say, "Well, you're just going to have to wait and see. You _honestly_ think I'm going to reveal what my strengths are right in front of _him_?" I dart my eyes over to Nearland and then back to Finnick's dark green ones. Finnick just laughs. Then he turns to Mags. "We've got a Career here, Mags." Mags opens her mouth to respond, when Nearland interrupts. "We both know you don't train, Annie." He has a small smirk on his face, and even laughs a bit. I glare at him. "Correction: You haven't _seen_ me train. You don't follow me around 24/7, do you? You like younger girls, right? I wouldn't be surprised if you do, going out with Holland Gevers last year." "Who?" Mags asks. "Oh, she's thirteen. Nearland here is known as a real ladies' man. He's going out with a girl five years younger than him. Isn't that illegal?" The air around us has gotten tense, but all Finnick does is lean back in his seat, hands behind his head, and grins at us. "So, which one of you wants to be a Career?" This time I answer first, before Nearland even has a chance to get his mouth open. "I'm born for these Games, Finnick. Obviously, I'm going to need allies." Nearland restrains from whatever he was going to say, and his jaw tightens before he says, "I'd rather go alone." Mags raises her eyebrows and says, "Are you sure? I mean, the Careers are the most likely to win-." "I'm sure." He answers gruffly, before getting up and leaving the car. I watch him go, before turning around and staring at the pink soup, appetite lost. I don't know why, but I kind of feel sorry for Nearland. I know for a fact that he doesn't have very many friends besides Alex, so possibly it's because Alex is more attached to his sister than to his best friend. But that makes sense, right? Family before friends? Whatever Nearland's reason for leaving so abruptly, I have a feeling it was linked to me. "Annie," Finnick says, suddenly serious. It's different, because I've never seen him serious before. Only snarky, arrogant, and incredibly sarcastic. "Annie, what did you do?" "What do you mean?" I ask, taking a sip of the soup to hide my anxiety. "I mean, about Nearland. Why would you _say_ that?" Suddenly, I am on the offensive. "Well, he started it. And besides, I didn't expect him to take it so seriously. It's over, right? One, or most likely both, of us are going to die, so why worry about Holland when-?" "You know that's not what I mean." It's not a statement that's up for arguing. It's a fact. "Well," Fillipa says shakily, as if to ease the conversation. "Shall we watch the recaps of the Reapings?" "But what about Nearland?" Mags asks. "Let him go. He needs rest to face tomorrow. We'll arrive in the Capitol early." With that said, we head off to the T.V. car.

So this is what it's like, being a Tribute in these Games. These festivities. And at the end we all die. It happens every year though, nothing new. Some of us actually like it.

We call it a Game.

**All the best,**

**Guardian2Be**


	7. Chapter 5: Flawless

**Disclaimer: I got nothing.**

**Guys, guys, guys… The only reason I kept this chapter off FF for so long is because I only got two reviews for chapter four… So, the Virtual Finnicks go to the same people. Really, guys, it won't be much of a competition if it keeps going to the same people. To Chocolate and , thanks sooo much for reviewing! :D Now back to the story!**

**Virtual Finnicks go to:**

Death..

97

Chapter Five: Flawless

The T.V. car had a huge flat-screen that nearly covered the whole wall, but couldn't be thicker than a paperback child's picture book. Across from the television, the theme seemed to be white leather. There are two armchairs on either side of the room; between them two medium sized couches. In front of the couches was a coffee table, and there was a small red button that read _service _on it. We all sat down, and I found myself sitting next to Finnick. I studied him out of the corner of my eye.

*****AN IMPORTANT NOTE*****

**The television has not exaggerated his hotness.**

He has a swimmer's tan, but that was nothing new; he's from District Four, all boys have that. What really captured me was the shade of his dark green eyes. Dark green eyes were rare in Four. Blue, green, and hazel are the most common eye-colors. Never dark green; like emeralds. They were gorgeous. His hair was bronze, and sparkled almost gold when in sunlight. The strands of hair were artfully messy. His eyes were clouded over, as if he wasn't really with us, but he came back when I lightly touched his arm. He nearly jumped to the moon. And he also nearly broke my wrist. I pulled back before he could touch me though. He was about to say something, when the T.V. turned on, and anything he would have said was lost.

Ceaser Flickerman, the host of the Pre-Games System, or the things that happen before the actual Games begin, greets and welcomes us to the Seventieth Annual Hunger Games. That was met with a huge applause by the Capitol audience. He lets them clap and yell, before quieting the crowd and directing them to the huge screen set up in the Capitol's City Circle. It hums to life with a soft black glow. Then the footage begins, and the Reapings repeat, beginning with Districts One and Two. The youngest of the four classic Careers, a sixteen year old girl named Cecilia from Two, was bone thin, but still looked like she could kill me with one swing of a sword. The rest were in the seventeen to eighteen year old zone, and they were all very large. Next comes District Three, and they were both very skinny, but not District Eleven skinny. They still had a couple pounds on them; both looked well cared for, and very, very smart. I made a mental note not to count them out. They could probably create bombs with a toothpick and a piece of string.

Then Ceaser announces District Four. The camera did a sweep to see the whole Square, before coming in to Fillipa, who was going on with her regular speech we had heard not too long ago. Then she reaches in and pulls out a slip that I already know had my name on it. As my name rings out across the Square, and a small shift occurs in the fourteen year olds, it's obvious the name had come from there. The camera zooms in, finds a locked up girl with curly hair pulled back artfully, and with sea green eyes that show my disbelief (but you can't tell whether it's good or bad, thank God), before relaxing in a cocky style, and walking to the stage. Or, gliding. This girl is not me. I could never walk with such grace, with a small smile on my face, my eyes shining with a fire kindled by excitement. No, that is not me. But it is. Because when Fillipa asks the girl's age, it is my voice. "Fourteen." I say, and grin up at her. I'm shocked by the way I say it; so confidently, so sure in my own actions. It scares me. I said it twice, and I'll say it again.

This is not me.

Then Nearland comes up, he answers his age question, and I watch as my eyes flash in recognition. I see myself shift from foot to foot, and watch as I remember what to do. Smile, act excited. I do so, grinning at my sobbing friends, finding Alex in the crowd, smile to him, like I don't have a care in the world. God, I _am_ way too good at acting. Then we shake hands, and the image cuts to District Five. I allow myself to glance over at Finnick, who automatically looks away, and I realize he's been watching me. Why? I know I wasn't the only Career girl he's had to mentor. Is he deciding to coach me instead of Nearland? No, he isn't. He can't. He has to coach Nearland. I don't think it's allowed in the Games, a girl tribute being mentored by a male Victor. Then again, there's no rules against it. Maybe I'm getting out of control here, maybe I did something subconsciously that caught him off guard… I shake my head to clear it, before going back to the Reapings, where District Ten just finished. The most I could see of the two were that they were small, and probably wouldn't make it past the blood bath. Then District Eleven comes, and I am again reminded of how those farther off from the Capitol are treated. They are skinny. No, not skinny. Malnourished, so malnourished you can see and count each of their ribs. Some of them who've been working in the fields for all their lives, like the eighteen year olds, can actually be potential Careers. If they were ever trained. Which they aren't. Ever. The boy (if he is seventeen or eighteen) can usually make it pretty far. The two that are Reaped are both in the younger group. The older one, the boy, is sixteen, the girl is thirteen. I feel horrible, because even though I know her age, she could pass for ten, at the youngest. Then it switches to District Twelve. These tributes almost always die at the blood bath, so they aren't much to look at. Skinny, starving kids, hollow eyes and just skin and bones. Dark hair and gray eyes; olive skin. But there's something about the glint in the fifteen year old boy's eyes…

It cuts back to Ceaser Flickerman, who is smiling, saying how certain he is that these will be the best Games yet. He says that every year. And every year things get even more horrific.

I'm sure this year will be no exception.

Finnick flicks off the T.V. and turns to me. "Go to bed, Annie. We'll arrive in the Capitol early, possibly at about eight." I was about to argue that eight A.M wasn't early, but I thought better of it and bit my tongue. "Okay." I whisper, before standing and heading for the exit of the dining car. Just as I wrestle open the door. I hear Finnick tell Mags that he wants Nearland. To mentor. He thinks he can't hear me; After all, we will find out officially who gets to mentor who tomorrow. I know though, that if I were a mentor, I would choose Nearland. Without a doubt.

I walk slowly to my room, open the door and collapse on the bed, kicking off my shoes as I go. Not even bothering to change into pajamas, I crawl under the covers. I stare at the ceiling, wondering if sleep will ever find me in these days to come. As I begin to drift off, I hear a knock at my door. I sigh, get out from under the covers, and walk over barefoot to get the door. I open it, and in my haze, I was about to tell Alex to bug off, when I don't see my older brother, I see Finnick. "Hi." He says. "Were you sleeping? Because if you are I can-." Before I can stop myself, I let out a short laugh without humor. "Sleeping? No, of course not. I probably won't get any sleep even if I tried. Did you want something?" Finnick looks beyond me, but is all the same looking at me. He did that weird flashback thing; like he's remembering something. "Actually, I've got a question." "Shoot." "Well, can we talk in your room? I don't want anyone overhearing, especially not _Nearland_." He adds the last part with a lot of sarcasm and a wink. "Sure, come on in." I let him through. I sit down on my bed, and watch him as he paces in front of me. "What's up?" "Well, I just wanted to ask if you'd be okay with… me mentoring you." Did I just hear that? "I… I thought you weren't supposed to make final decisions until tomorrow?" "That was the plan, yeah… But I need to jump on this chance before the window closes." I look up at him, eyebrows raised. "What do you mean?" Finnick stops and stares down at me, which made me feel a bit uncomfortable, I wasn't going to lie. "Annie…" He runs a hand through his hair. "You're not a _real_ Career, are you?" It wasn't a question. It was statement, we both knew it. I shake my head slowly, watching his reaction. He scowls, something that looks weird on his face.

Then he turns, and smiles.

"Well, we better make your act…" He winks. "Flawless."

**There you go guys! Hope you enjoyed! :D**

**All the best,**

**Guardian2Be**


	8. Chapter 6: Capitol

**Haha! I'm back! Sorry it took **_**so**_** long to update; School has left me **_**zero **_**time to write :P Hope you enjoy!**

**Virtual Finnicks:**

**97**

**Xaindra and Xavier **

Chapter Six: Capitol

The next day, Finnick told Nearland and me to try and make friends. Now, and especially during training. Maybe get into the Careers, if we can. This last part was directed at me, and I realize I haven't been acting like the Career Finnick wants me to be. The one Alex trained me to be. So I give him a saucy and flirtatious smile in response to the Career comment. He nods, every bit like the mentor he's supposed to be, but something about the spark in his eyes told me he was pleased I'd responded in a Career-like fashion so quickly.

Soon, we arrived at the Capitol station, greeted by a _lot_ of Capitolites. Mostly women; it's not like I'm surprised. They were mostly there for Finnick. Speaking of Finnick, he was currently whispering at us to smile and wave.

I do so immediately, and, glancing over at Nearland, I see that he's practically snarling. I say under my breath, "Listen, you're not going to get very far in these Games if you're not willing to smile." He turns, glares at me. "You want me to play _nice_? Annie, I don't want to give into them. And I'm most definitely not turning into one of their silly little _lap dogs_." With that, he walked away toward the exit of the train. Great. Now Nearland hates me. But it doesn't matter, does it? Not if I'm most likely going to be a Career, and he's going it alone.

But there was no time to think about my or Nearland's actions, because right then, Finnick was gently guiding me to the door. And it was then I realized that _I didn't want to do go_. Not out there. Definitely not in an Arena. I locked up. I just completely stopped moving. Finnick leaned down, seeming to realize this and spoke quietly into my ear. Not in his usual seductive purr, but more gentle.

"Take it easy, Annie. If you want to win, you need to move. I know you're scared, I was too. But you see those cameras and people out there?" He points toward the cheering group, now flocking toward the train's exit to get a good glance at the male tribute of Four. AKA: Nearland. I nod slowly. "They are here for _you_. Not me. They see me every year. You… You are something special. You are a Career. Show them your power." He gently nudges me forward. I take the rest of the steps to the open door. I glance back, see Finnick holding four fingers up, with the pointer of his left over the tips of the two middle fingers of his right; a sign of strength and power in Four.

And as I step out, I feel ready to take on the world.

**Working on next chapter now! :D**

**All the best,**

**Guardian2Be**


	9. Chapter 7: Sessions

**Disclaimer: Nope.**

**Sorry for the length of the last chap. With any luck this one'll be longer :)**

Chapter 7:

The camera lights are blinding, bright things that are used to create better lighting, sure. I know that. But they sure can be annoying. Especially when fifteen are flashing in your direction. At once. At the exact same time. I swear, for five minutes I could see nothing than white. It was over sooner than I expected, Finnick guiding me into a building, and setting me down on a couch next to Nearland.

"Guys." Finnick gives a bright, fake-but-proved-to-dazzle-young-Capitol-women smile, and continued. "Today—actually, right after this—you'll meet your stylist and prep crew. So, I'm going to tell you this once, and you two better listen up." Nearland scowls. Paying him no mind, Finnick continues. "Do what they tell you—no arguing. Now, I'll be mentoring Annie…" "_What_?" This is the first _real _emotion I've heard from Nearland, besides the angry, or I-couldn't-care-less attitude. I was expecting Finnick to say something, until Mags stepped up to the plate. She bent down (which was surprising; I didn't think she could bend that low) and looked him straight in the eye. "You better be joking, boy. No tribute of mine is going to go in there like _this_. So, you didn't get the mentor you wanted. But I'm positive that I won my Games, and am more than capable to take care of you in the Arena. So, I suggest you do your best to suck it up and get with the program." Nearland huffs, but that was it.

"So," Finnick says easily, diffusing the tension as best as humanly possible. "Your crew will meet you here soon. For now, Mags and I have to go and do interviews. I'll see you both later."  
>We both sit on the couch, waiting. About five minutes, and a man walks in. He has golden eyes and tan—unnatural—skin. His hair was a light green, which clashed horribly and made my eyes burn. He grins, revealing white teeth as a girl walks in. She has purple hair and violet eyes, and blue skin. She looks like an alien.<p>

"Well, at least they don't look as bad as last year's." she scoffs. "Now, now, Aquarious. These two are gorgeous, and you know very well Haven and Kailen were too." The man says, still grinning blindly.

Haven was a girl about two years older than me, and Kailen, the male tribute from last year, I barely knew. They both made it pretty far, before Kailen got killed by a monster earthquake, and Haven destroyed by the male from One after they decided they didn't need her in their Career group anymore. It was gruesome, and made me have nightmares for weeks afterward. They were both good looking, I guess. But they didn't really stand out for anything. Average. Just like me.

Aquarious rolls her eyes when the guy wasn't looking. "Now." He said. "Your names?"

"Nearland."

"Annie."

Aquarious makes an unidentified noise, and we all look at her. "What?" she says defensively. Nearland and I look away, but the man keeps staring at her. "Fredal!" she glares at him. Fredal. Weird name.

"Well," he says. "My name is Fredal, as you figured out. I will be Annie's stylist, and Aquarious will be Nearland's. Your prep team will be in the Remake Center waiting for you. Now go on." He claps twice and walks off, Aquarious following.

"Um…" Nearland says.

"Guess we're supposed to follow them?" I say, and we go off on our stylist's heels.

Ten minutes later, I was undressed, hair down, and standing, shivering, in front of three Capitol people. Three girls. All extremely loud and annoying.

"Now, Ammi."

"Annie." I say quietly. "What was that dear? You're going to have to speak up." The bright pink-haired one says quickly, holding a bright yellow hand to her equally yellow ear.

"My name is Annie." I say, a bit louder.

"Annie, Maurice. Her name is Annie." The red haired one says impatiently. " Ah, Annie." The pink haired one says, finally getting it right.

"We must remake her immediately!"

"Now, skin dye or hair dye?"

"Neither! Verol said to keep her fresh!"

I watch them argue and finally they agree to get the basics done. First they bathe me in foul-smelling liquid, and when I come out of the tub, all the hair on my arms and legs have disappeared. "What was that stuff?" I ask as they rub me down with a towel.

"It's shaving water dear! You've never done that before? It's simply delightful!" Maurice says.

"No…" I say slowly.

"Oh my goodness! I keep forgetting you're from District Four! And you don't even know our names! Girls, introductions!" Maurice yells in an opera voice.

"My name is Daisy!" The red haired one sings out loudly, and extremely off key.

"My name is Lilah!" sings—in a surprisingly non-altered voice—happily, her purple curls bouncing.

"Now, continue with the session!"


End file.
